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A poem by Linnea Lind-Jonsson

Linnea Lind-Jonsson from “Skrivande 20” (“Creative Writing Class 20”), a small group of students in year two on the upper secondary school writing programme at Film & Musikgymnasiet (The Film and Music Gymnasium) in Norrköping, has written a poem about words that are pronounced in the most private sphere, the one that is between two lovers. Words that do not disappear easily. They are not pronounced in the poem but their effect is very obvious.

Credits Poem: Linnea Lind-Jonsson Translation: Christina Cullhed February 11 2022

Standing once more in front of the mirror
I contemplate what I see
A reflection is there
A reflection that your words have created

I no longer see myself

I only see how I am bleeding
because of your words
All I can hear is how you shout those words

You have swallowed those words for so long
Now I continue to swallow them
despite the tears down my cheeks
and despite the lack of oxygen in my lungs
I am still standing in front of the mirror

You are no longer with me
Others are here, but never the same ones
There is always someone new to substitute you

But he never stays long
only one evening
Now his clothes are on my floor and his hands are touching my body

Although I am with another you are the one who patrols the inside of my body

I study the mirror once more; your words are indelibly imprinted on my body
I stroke my skin so full of invisible scars
and yet I let someone else’s hands touch me

While he kisses each millimeter of my skin
I almost forget you and your words
It is only he and I in the dark night’s hours

While you make me forget how painful reality is
You are also exploiting me
Of course, your kisses could make me believe differently
Under the night’s starry sky, we taste lust
and allow lust to take over
Nothing else matters now
We both want to drown in the taste of the other

With the first rays of the sun, he is already gone
and as always, I see your face back in the mirror
I soon hear you shouting all those words again
and as always, I start to cry

I ask myself:
“When will you let me go?”

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